Tarnished Copper
by Joker88
Summary: The Joker and his informant, what a woman will do to save her son. PLEASE R&R Flame me and I'll find your family.


_**Okay this is about a bent copper, a corrupt policewoman, please review, if you read it, review it. Please? Pretty Please? Pretty Please with sugar on top? And a cherry? With chocolate syrup?**_

If people knew I'd probably kill myself. I'm ashamed.

But they can't judge me, I know I'm not the only one.

I haven't been doing this for long, only about three months. That's way better than some who've been selling themselves on the market since they got the badge and gun.

I have to do this. I have to. If I don't... My son, my beautiful baby. He'd die.

The hospital bills are climbing, I need the money that corrupted hands have touched.

I'm betraying Gotham, but I'd rather be labeled a traitor than have to watch my son die. Anything but that.

And now I'm too deep, I can't dig myself out. I've been dragged into the slums of Gotham watched drug deals and gunfights in my cop car, even killed my partner. For family.

The station isn't safe anymore, Batman is barely scratching the surface of the underworld that exists on the streets and in the warehouses.

I've even shot myself to stay in the force, to avert suspicion.

In the end it was Gordon who found out. He hadn't said anything but he knew. I handed in my gun my uniform and my badge. And he didn't say anything only held out his hands for the items which had been my life, his face passive.

But his eyes had held such disappointment, I couldn't look at his face. My cheeks were burning because I know what I did to save my son.

It had been a relief, to know that it was over, that I would never have to run, have to lie and cheat.

But when I walked out of the commissioners office and all those cops looked at me with anger and resentment and betrayal plastered all over their self-righteous faces.

They didn't know me. They had seen what I had done in the early years, I had been fearless, brave, fighting for what was right.

I had been so naïve, I had been so young so innocent. I can barely remember those nights when I could look at myself in a mirror. That I could sleep without nightmares, when I had loved my husband.

All before my son had gotten sick.

I had to save him. If was the only and last thing I would do, I would save my son. I would sacrifice everything for him, to see him look up at me with those trusting eyes, the eyes that had steadily dulled into vacancy.

But there was hope, there was always hope. Even when I had joined the Joker in his crusade against Batman, I had hope.

And even when those officers, my other family who had cared for me, seen me through my dangerous years, even when they turned away from me in the light of my false sincerity, I had hope.

And now I had none, the joker had set me up in another precinct, scarred my face that no one would recognize me, replace my fingerprints so I couldn't be traced, given another name, badge, gun, and life.

So that I could keep doing this, lose hope in humanity.

I can't see my son, he wouldn't recognize me anyway. I hear he's getting better.

And that alone makes my life worth living.

So when the Joker looked me up personally, just hours after I killed my partner, I was ready for him. I was going to do what ever he asked because I heard my son was off a respirator.

Because I could save him.

It's funny, there are only two woman who work for him, me and Officer Pollard. And he trusts us more than his hulking henchmen.

He'd trust a bent cop over a ruthless, dumb, thug. Not that he can trust anyone very much.

But we've actually seen him, stood in on his torture sessions, the only two people still living from when he massacred his last bunch of hoods.

He was a man to be feared but I was past fearing him. Hell, I could take a batch of Crane's fear toxin to my veins and I wouldn't react.

I can hear his footsteps on the concrete floor coming at me out of the darkness.

He chose the warehouse in the Narrows for his meetings. It was owned by Wayne enterprises, as was most of the area on the east side of the crime city.

It's funny, he only allows one small light right in the very center of the cavernous space. That and a desk are the only items in the place, it looked like an creepy accountants table with a few files and folders on the old wood.

Chairs were scattered around the lonely light gray folding chars and mismatched plastic ones.

With all the Money the Joker made, You'd think he'd have better style.

He appeared in the light, his hand dug deep into his pockets, his purple jacket discarded revealing the green vest underneath.

Purple and green. Bad colors, bright, gay, and somehow toxic. Poisonous.

"Hello Officer, How are our boys in blue doing?"

He sat down on one of the metal folding chars, his legs crossed and his hands behind his head.

"They fifth precinct knows about the shipment coming in next week, and are planning on seizing the Saint Mark Bank on South Warwick street."

I didn't look at him as I recited my information. It reminded me of my own scars and how I had gotten them.

* * *

_I made my way down Ebony Street, My short hair hanging limply around my cheeks in the moist air._

_I wasn't looking forward to this meeting._

_The Joker stood in the room, his back turned to me, looking at a map with hundreds of small green pins in it. _

_"Yes Officer?"_

_"They got wind of me, I'm defunct. Gordon dismissed me from the force."_

_I was going to die, I knew it, Gordon had known it the minute he had asked me for the badge. _

_The Joker was still staring at the map, his arms crossed._

_"I see, and did I say you could get caught?"_

_I was caught off guard, it wasn't what I had been expecting, something more along the lines of laughter and then a knife to the throat. _

_"I...What?"_

_He spun around, I flinched at the sudden movement. _

_"Why were you caught? What did you do wrong? Did you tell them anything?"_

_"N-no."_

_"Were you followed?"_

_"I ditched them on Murray."_

_"That's a relief. But why did you come here? You are of no more use to me."_

_I remained silent. I had no answer._

_He sighed and turned back to his map. "Suicidal are you? Hehe, I like people like you. Useful until they get funny idea's. I don't want to discard you. But to keep you will compromise my organization..."_

_I can still see that grimy room with it's slimy walls and the man that matched it._

_"What to do, what to do...I know!"_

_And then there's just pain and red clouds in my vision. Blood smearing across my eyes, running into my hair._

_And then blackness._

_Then whiteness as I woke up. People standing around asking me funny questions._

_Then laughter._

* * *

It turned out that the Joker needed a way into the hospital, and a concerned husband with a carved up wife would get him the places he wanted to go.

I'm hideous to look at, but It bought sympathy with Gotham's police force and I just happened to mention that I was a cop, and as fast I was cast out, I was welcomed back with open arms. Acting out amnesia and its back to the lying.

"...and there's a double cross in Mickey's outfit, someone's passing info to the cops for money and a way out of jail." I finished, staring at my feet.

People are afraid of death, like it's some horrible experience that must be delayed at all costs.

After what happened to my face I think that life is more frightening. I was still in shock, I had killed my partner not two hours ago, they must be wondering where my body is.

My partner, Frank, looking forward to his retirement next month, his son's wedding is tomorrow, I should feel some remorse, some kind of emotion, I had killed an innocent man, someone who was in the wrong place in the wrong time, someone who had trusted me.

I found out a long time ago that feelings can get you into a lot of trouble.

"So we have a backstabber. Another one. Two in a week! The should have made you chief detective by now."

I said nothing, my eyes fixed firmly on the piece of gum by my left shoe.

"Gotham's finest," He mused, out of the corner of my eye I could see him lean forward in his chair, propping his head up on his elbows. "Are you one of Gotham's finest?"

I stuck to my silence.

"I heard about your partner," He said and clucked his tongue. "Life expectancy in the force is getting lower everyday, but well, he was quite old."

I could hear a rat scurrying across the floor to my right. The rodents in the narrows could become huge. Some even killed cats.

"Look at me." The Joker said in that wheedling tone he used on his victims.

I didn't, I couldn't.

"I said," He smiled, stretching his scars till they reached his ears, looking like some horrific Halloween pumpkin. Then he snapped forward off his chair and grabbed me by the sides of my face. "LOOK AT ME!"

His voice had turned gravely, strange and hissing. Smooth and rough at the same time. I stared at him calmly, I felt no fear, he couldn't control me any longer.

He started to laugh, his fingernails were sharp, piercing into the soft skin behind my ears.

Abruptly he pulled away and called to the silent watcher s by the door, "Bring Mickey's outfit here!"

In minutes the outfit was in the warehouse. They had their arms folded across their chests in an attempt to stop themselves shaking n the Joker's presence.

"You may leave, Officer." He said.

Two silent shadows slipped into the light, revealing themselves as tow more henchmen, machine guns gripped tightly in their arms.

I headed towards the light that had opened at one end of the empty grotto.

I didn't look back as the sounds of gunfire and screams followed me out the heavy metal doors. They shut behind me with a clang and silence dominated the streets as people pretended they hadn't heard or seen anything.

_**Please Review!! Any questions? Send me a message.**_

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